QUEER
by an awesome blossom
Some things are more the same than different.

Part of the series where I pair Link with all the assorted baddies in Zelda just for kicks. Written to Garbage's "Queer". The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past are property of Nintendo and respective owners.


His heart leapt into his throat as he laid eyes on her sitting helplessly behind bars. There was nothing more he wanted to do than rush over as fast as his legs could carry him and twist that key he held between his trembling fingers in the awful lock that kept her prisoner. He wanted to fling the barred door open as hard as he could and hope that it flew off its hinges never to be used to lock her away.

Again.

Startled to see him, she rose abruptly and her mouth parted though she remained silent. Her eyes blankly stared at him, perhaps wondering if her savior was real. Her hesitation lasted but a second before she practically pressed her body against the barred door in such a desire for freedom.

And he swore to himself that he had seen this before.

It was precisely that which kept him from his original plan of rushed desperation. He saw himself taken off-guard by a ball of jagged metal attached to a wicked chain that he swore just came out of nowhere, being knocked into the wall as the skin on his right shoulder tore in such a way that was still visible, and he heard the shrieks of terror and frustration from the imprisoned maiden as such a weapon of destruction headed his way again. Never again would he be so foolhardy, and the pain in his shoulder every time he defended himself against an attack was a steady reminder.

He wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

She stood almost rigidly, as she watched his indecision from down the hall, and her own rising fear was evident in her eyes despite the distance between them. Her slender fingers slowly wrapped around the bars, and she swallowed though it did nothing to help her parched and panicked throat. Her eyes followed him as he began a slow, weaving path to her, but even that did nothing to quell her discomfort. He was too slow; she needed him now.

He mistook her uneasy body as someone else's for a second.

Treading with caution, he took a slow, zigzag path to her cell while his ears kept attention for any hint of an ambush. The pace he took was excruciating to even him as his heart drummed loudly and his legs ached from wanting so much to run. But even after reaching the intimidating lock on the door without event, he couldn't have confidence that nothing would go wrong.

He knew it would happen because it always happened and namely it happened before.

She looked at him plaintively as he kept the key to her freedom between his trembling fingers, the barred door keeping them only inches apart. In this short distance, she saw the fearfulness in his eyes, his ragged nerves as various parts of his body twitched, and his only motion being a dark pink tongue poking from his lips to wet them. He could tell she wanted to scream at him in all kinds of frustration.

It wouldn't have been the first time he heard that.

His trembling fingers missed the hole and the key slipped, giving a light ring as it hit the stone floor and bounced into the confines of her cell. To him, though, the sound was deafening. He squatted and leaned his good shoulder against the bars to retrieve the key, but as he did so, she bent down at the waist.

And as he watched cleavage he had never noticed before dip down to his eye level, he couldn't remember if that had ever happened before.

Her fingers grasped the key effortlessly, but she made no motion to rise to free herself. Instead, she watched him intently, and it took longer than it should have for his eyes to meet hers. In a pace that almost matched his earlier, she took her time in returning the key to him. Her hand rose from the ground and lingered at her breasts before she put the key square in the palm of her hand. She kept her hand low as she slid it between the bars and presented it to him openly.

It took a wayward, errant thought of his to realize how close her hand ended up to his groin, and he decided at last that this was decidedly unfamiliar.

He hesitated in accepting her gift if only for the fact that he knew it would require touching her hand, and he just didn't know what would happen then. It was stupid to imagine that he would lose control just by touching a woman's hand, especially considering the fact that he had even held hands with a princess in guiding her through the sewers. They certainly touched hands. And he realized that they touched hands as her impatient fingers tucked the key into his palm. He let out a stale breath at the thought that he hadn't lost control at all. Rising as she did the same, he turned the key into the lock with renewed confidence, satisfied to hear it open with a click. Taking a brief moment to fulfill his previous desires, he let the lock drop harshly to the ground and pulled the door quickly open...only to stand undecided at the threshold, his steam leaking from his pores.

She stood opposite him, still, and he was unsure what her eyes meant.

Whether it was seconds or hours that they stood apart from each other, he couldn't tell, but all was changed as she reached out and rest her fingertips on his bad shoulder. He should have been unnerved and reminded of past, careless mistakes, but all that left his head as they were suddenly pressed against each other in an embrace that might fool a possible onlooker into thinking that they were lost lovers.

And it was so familiar that he thought they might have been.

She lifted her leg slightly to wrap around his, and at once the parts of his body touching hers grew warmer than he was comfortable with. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and all he could think about was this warmth. Their foreheads touched, and he felt a strange tingle as her lips were dangerously close to his. He had the thought, though, that they were simply too far.

He took a sharp intake of breath as he felt her lips ghost his cheek only to slide to his earlobe. His shudder was something he was sure she felt, as well as other things, but he pulled her closer just to make sure.

"Save me."

Those two, whispered words had more of a sobering effect on him than he cared for, and he realized the real familiarity of the situation:

She was one of the maidens whom he was destined to rescue (he rescued the Princess of Hyrule), locked in a dungeon beneath Kakariko Village (imprisoned in the basements of her own castle) instead of encased in a crystal and guarded by a dangerous beast (and guarded by a possessed soldier wielding a deadly ball and chain)

"Let's go," she said as she broke from their embrace, instead taking simply his hand as they fled the cell.

Link wondered when the attack would come.